


Why won't you let me love you

by laurissy



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Loneliness, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:15:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurissy/pseuds/laurissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So finally Effie and Haymitch have a chance  to figure themselves out now they're both away from the Capital and in District 13. The only problem is that Haymitch is a recovering drunk and Effie has been isolated from everyhting she's ever known. But as we all know sparks fly when these two are around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N I just can’t stop, this ship man it’s taking over. Send help. Yeah I really enjoy writing this couple. They’re just so much fun to write about and to think I used to think my favourite ship was Everlark. All hail Hayffie. So yeah I wanted to write a fanfic about them actually becoming a couple because my first two Hayffie fanfics are about them being unable to acknowledge their feelings but now we’re dealing with full frontal emotion.

District 13, the destroyed district, the derelict district, the damned district. Effie looked around at her blank room, letting its emptiness sink in. She thought of home. It seemed so far away. Her comfortable bed, her expansive wardrobe and her wig collection. The walls seemed to shrink around her. Of course she wasn’t a prisoner. It seemed a small comfort.

She shook her head and grabbed a pencil that was on the table. She was going to do something about this. She would not live like this. She would not live in a world starved of beauty. She couldn’t. She took the pencil and began to draw; she wasn’t sure what she was doing. Suddenly she realised she was drawing feathers. She applied more pressure to the pencil, its dull grey becoming black.

Her Mockingjay. She hadn’t even known what one was before Katniss. Haymitch had to explain it to her. It seemed dangerous but at the same time it was just so incredibly Katniss. To defy the world just by existing. She used her fingers to smudge the colour together, admiring her own work. Sinna told her that she was a good artist. Her eyes filled as she thought of her friend. It wasn’t fair; the graphite stung her eyes as she rubbed her tears away.

It was lonely here. Effie had never been lonely, she’d always had plenty of friends and she prided herself on being something of a minor socialite. She’d been happy, well mostly and surely that was more than most had. Of course there were other people from the Capital here but they had chosen to be here. Willingly sacrificed everything, Effie wondered if she would have had the strength to come here on her own. She liked to think she would have, help her Mockingjay, change the world, and make it better. She really liked to think that she would have. Of course she never had a choice.

The gentle knock disturbed her musings. She didn’t want to talk to Plutarch; she’d help him besides he’d be helpless without her. It wasn’t easy making Katniss look good but if anyone could do it, it was her.  She didn’t need another talk. She needed to get started so democracy could be restored. It sounded silly and farfetched in her head. “Go away, I’m thinking.”

A gruff voice replied “Well isn’t that amazing, do you want me to call the Press.”

‘It better not be who I think it is.’ She thought because if it was, she was going to kill him. She opened the door. Of course it was him. Almost as a reaction she slapped him across the face.

“Well I guess I deserved that.” He admitted. “Anyway how are you?”

 “You kidnapped me.” She shouted alarming several innocent District 13 citizens.

Haymitch looked uncomfortable, his hand was shaking uncontrollably. Damn Doctors. There were all looking at him like he was a circus exhibit.  “Look, can you please let me in.”

Effie slammed the door shut. A tiny voice in her head told her that what she did was incredibly rude. But if there was one person who could make Effie's blood boil enough that she didn't care about being rude. It was Haymitch.

“Effie, they were going to interrogate you.” Haymitch pleaded banging on the door “It wouldn’t have been pretty.”

There was silence. Haymitch just looked at the door; he couldn’t let another one close. He’d just have to stand there. She opened the door, her voice shaking “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked at her, she was so different. This Effie was like Ice, her anger cold to the touch. “You didn’t trust me.” She said simply looking at him, her eyes fierce despite the tears that flowed down her face.

“There wasn’t time” Haymitch offered knowing the answer was weak.

Effie laughed without any joy “So because you didn’t trust me, you thought it would be better if I was uprooted from my life without any warning or time to prepare.”

“It would have tipped them of.” Haymitch insisted.

“Fine.” She acquiesced but Haymitch knew that she wasn’t done.  “What about Sinna?”

God knows how much he didn’t want to think about that. It was too much of a risk. The whole mission would have been put in jeopardy. They had to save Katniss. He knew that. Hell Sinna knew that. It didn’t make it any easier. Why did he always have to make the choice? During the Hunger Games it was easy. He chose himself. Now he was deciding who lived and died. He was a washed up drunk. His eyes felt sore and hot as he looked at her. How could she make him the guilty one? It wasn’t fair. He’d won the Hunger games. That was enough punishment. Now he’d have to spend the rest of his days being guilty. He was crying in public. Damn meds. He couldn’t face her; he wasn’t going to do this in front of her. He had to leave.

She reached for his hand. For once she was speechless. So many times in her life; she had to fill the air with conversation. Silence was so awkward and there was also something that could be said. She wanted to say something, something stupid that would make him ok. Or hell just something to make him laugh. But she just couldn’t think of anything.

He had to run, he didn’t know where. The forest, branches clawing into him desperate for a piece. The careers behind him, faster, faster. Need to find a place to hide. Find weapon. Kill. Escape? No, this wasn’t the games; this was district 13 with so many damn corridors that all looked the same. Where could he go? There was nowhere to go. He stopped. Just let them kill you.

He could hear them “Where did he go?”

“Let him hide, there’s easier prey, twice as many as usual.”

“No I’m going to find the runt.”

“Just leave it.”

The rustling continued but the voice stopped. Heavy breaths. In. Out. Knife glinting in the sunlight. The Career had his pick at the cornucopia. His eyes scouring the jungle for the runt. Hunting prey.  Big mistake. Too much training. He thought he was the hunter. Hands, clumsy, oafish, sweaty. Too much heat. Then the knife. Grab. Plunge. Too much blood.

“Haymitch are you ok?” she asked.

He grabbed her. The knife. Where did the knife go? He couldn’t see the knife. They could come back. He had to kill.

“Haymitch stop.” She screamed. He felt her quivering. Her eyes were full of fear but focused. She looked directly at him. “Haymitch, you need to go to the hospital.”

He could feel the wind. He was back there. His hands were warms and sticky, the blood already turning from scarlet red to muddy brown. The scent, the forest, the corpse, it was all here.

“Haymitch this is district 13.” Effie said her voice quavering but level. No sudden noise. Just stay calm.

“No it’s not Effie, I’m there, I’m always there, and you just can’t win.” Haymitch cried, his eyes were red with pain. He sobbed, his whole body shaking as he collapsed. How did he let this happen? How did he become so weak?

“I know, I’m going to help you.” She told him then added “I promise.”

 

 

The doctors in district 13 lacked a certain finesse but they were admittedly skilled. Unfortunately addiction therapy wasn’t one of their specialties. In the Capital, it was almost considered fashionable to go into therapy.  Effie remembered just before she went she’d declined going to someone fifth’s rehab party. It was sickening, deliberately becoming addicted so you could celebrate overcoming it. How empty must their lives be?

She left him, not really sure what to do. She couldn’t really face him right now even after her punishment. Also she knew him well enough that he needed a bit of time alone. Anyway she had a job to do and a rebellion to inspire. Of course Katniss was predictably awful. Ask the girl to shoot an arrow blindfolded into a target 50 metres away, no problem. Saying a three line speech like she meant it. Impossible. Thank God for Haymitch who came in and immediately knew what to do. Of course now she was gone and Effie once again was left to worry. All those times, all those children she’d sent into the games. A part of her wanted to forget them but then she felt guilty. Those children weren’t a scab that she picked at. They deserved to be remembered. Then afterwards Haymitch had been there.

He’d smelled nice sober. Effie didn’t need to think that. She would stop herself thinking that. They were colleagues bringing about a better Panem for the future. That sounded like something she would have written on a flashcard. She supposed it was only natural to go and thank him. Thank him for his assistance today. It was only natural besides she should check up on him. She did make a promise. She stood outside his door, willing it to open. This is silly. She took a deep breath and knocked.

She heard groans and then shuffling then open “Hello” she said brightly, too brightly. Her tone was so high it almost made him wince.

“Come in.” he said, without even thinking.

Effie just stood there “Umm I just wanted to give you this.” She held a bottle of red liquid in her hands “its grape juice, unfortunately not as fermented as you would like but I wanted to thank you for helping.”

Haymitch took the bottle of her, without even looking at her “Come in.” She knew she probably shouldn’t but what was the harm, he had asked.

“God I need a drink.” Haymitch admitted, pouring the liquid into a glass tumbler. “Cheers” gesturing to Effie

“Go ahead.” Effie said, analysing everything, his room was exactly the same as hers, apart from the mess which was everywhere. The smell wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was almost nice to smell something that wasn’t so clinical. He looked ok which was good. He’d clearly been better at their meeting in the morning. He was shaking more now, the juice not quite making it into the tumbler.

“Thanks” he said smiling taking a huge gulp, not really caring that it went down so fast he didn’t really taste it.

Effie looked at him with a mix of concern and pity “You do know that’s just juice.”

“Don’t I know it; this no tolerance approach to alcohol is not what I call civil.” He said looking at the juice, almost willing it to turn into wine before his eyes.

“At least you chose to be here.” Effie muttered not really intending to say it out loud but of course she had.

 There was a silence between them. There was a part of her that wanted to scream at him for ruining her life for forcing herself to live in this bland world. She couldn’t though. She needed to be here and he knew that. She had to help Katniss. Effie couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Effie Trinket, Rebel maker. “Thanks for backing me up with Katniss today.” Haymitch breaking the silence and her contemplation.

Effie thought of her Mockingjay, how could she not help her? How could she let her do this on her own? She was only a child. A remarkable child. A child who could inspire a nation to better itself. But she was still a child and she shouldn’t have this burden. “You were right she was dying in here, she’s Katniss, she needs to be out there, she can’t pretend to inspire, she has to actually inspire.”

“The girl has many skills“Haymitch mused “Unfortunately pretending is not one of them.”

“Well it’s a good thing she’s got me” Effie said quietly. “It’s my forte.” Why was she saying these things? This was becoming embarrassing.

Haymitch reached for her cheek, it was already wet with tears despite herself she held onto his hand on her cheek, embracing its warmth. “If this all goes well, we won’t have to pretend anymore.” He told her, for once in his life trying to sound sincere.

“Aah Haymitch” she said wistfully, not quite keeping her tears in “I don’t know what’s left without the pretence.”

“Can I tell you something, Effie?” he asked, Effie nodded her head, and her eyes were sparkling. “I don’t know either.”

Effie laughed “Well I guess that’s a good thing about this place, we can’t pretend anymore.”

Haymitch picked up his tumbler “To not pretending.” Gulping his juice.

Effie poured herself a drink “To a new world.” She sipped it gently, she wasn’t really thirsty. “So are you feeling better?”

“How’s life without your wardrobe?” He asked.

“I improvise.” She said gesturing to her jumpsuit.

“I noticed.” Not even bothering to hide the lust in his voice. Her bright flamboyant dresses had a certain allure especially when it came to ripping them off. But he had enjoyed this simpler approach, no makeup, being able to appreciate her figure and her features. It was pleasant.

“You are such a pig and you didn’t answer my question.” Effie insisted. She poked him with her finger. He was being quite blatant and even here there had to be a sense of decorum. Though it was not unpleasant that her efforts to make the standard jumpsuit a little more suitable had not gone unnoticed.

Haymitch groaned, annoyed that she was asking him this. He considered lying but it seemed improper after the toast on not pretending. Besides she was probably the only one here that cared “I’ve got these headaches, they’re a pain, also I can’t stop shaking which is a pain, I don’t think I’m going to win any needlework competitions any time soon, also I’ll just be sick for no reason, so that’s fun, I thought stopping drinking was supposed to make you healthier.”

She held his hand feel his shakes going through her hand “It will but you’ve been drinking a long time and your body needs time to adjust.”

“What makes you such an expert?” Haymitch asked.

Effie frowned; the truth was that she’d nagged the doctors endlessly after what happened. Eventually one of the doctor explained that his body had become so used to alcohol and weaning him wasn’t an option. So he’d have to suffer going cold turkey. It was going to be a slow road and there was no guarantee that he would stop drinking once he got out of this place. The Doctor had explained to her that if he started drinking again after a long period of sobriety, there was a chance he could die. “I just know.” She replied her cheeks going slightly pink.

For whatever reason Haymitch decided to leave it at that. “Yeah well, the doctors here leave a lot to be desired.”

Effie was sympathetic to this, she’d found well everyone here to be quite standoffish. She was an outsider, no one was going to let her forget that. “You should be grateful.” Effie told him “They’ve probably added years to your life.”

Haymitch didn’t answer he just looked down. The greatest pretence of all, that life was worth living. There were plenty of times he wished he’d died in that arena. As he looked back he wondered why he’d fought so hard. He knew no one needed him; he’d made sure of that. There was the revolution, bringing the capital down. If he was honest though he didn’t have a thirst for vengeance or even a desire to make the world a better place. Why in the hell did the world deserve to be a better place? It had never done him any favours. Now the only method of killing himself that he could stand had been taken away. His head ached as a single thought crushed his mind. There was no way to escape. As he thought that he felt something soft brush his lips.

Effie’s eyes were looking directly into his, they were hesitant, but also questioning, she bit her lip nervously “Wow” she whispered “You taste so much better this way.” She kissed him again, her lips covering his. His heart hammered in his chest as he felt her hands stroke his face. He wanted this if he was honest that’s why he let her in. The next best thing right. Why not? He deserved this one night where he didn’t have to feel like a washed up drunkard who people only put up with out of politeness. He wanted her. What was the shame in that? He didn’t have to pretend anymore, President Snow wasn’t going to march in and tear them apart. He could just be with her and for the first time ever he didn’t have to worry about the Capital. He didn’t have to worry about anyone taking her away.

She pulled away at first he was confused. Then he saw her looking at the bunk bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable prospect in the world. There was a part of him that really didn’t care; his mind was fogging with lust. He lunged for her, pinning her against the wall. His hands shook frantically as he tried to clasp that stupid zip. He just couldn’t stop shaking. The clasp was there but he couldn’t feel it.

Effie reached for her zip and pulled it, granting him access. His hands desperately sought entry as soon as she did it. Effie could feel his hands on her even though his hands were shaking; they instinctively went to where she liked to be touched. She smiled as he continued to kiss her. She paused for air which just gave him a shot at her neck which he took. “Oh God I needed this.” She rasped.

Haymitch stopped for a second. What in the hell did she say? It didn’t matter. They were done with talking; he had one thing on his mind now. He wanted to devour her. He wanted her to scream. He wanted her. But what did she say? She felt her hands across his stomach and they clasped around his back pulling him closer. There was nothing in the way now. He needed her so much.

He stopped kissing her and his heart broke at the hurt in her eyes. But he stepped back. He looked at her. He was insane she was giving him exactly what he wanted. Sure she was probably still mad at him for bringing her here. But she was always mad at him. His head was awash with a crushing pain as he tried to focus. For once he couldn’t even blame the alcohol.

“Effie you need to leave.” He told her his eyes closed; there was no way he was making the mistake of looking at her.

Effie didn’t say anything. She walked away back to her room. What else could she do? The moment she got back her knees seemed to give way underneath her and she collapsed onto the floor. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making her cry. She didn’t want him to think that he had succeeded in absolutely humiliating her. It was so stupid. He’d manipulated her into feeling sorry for him. He’d taken advantage of her loneliness and isolation so he could use and discard her. She wanted so desperately to be angry, to have a fit, punish him, and get even.

She cried like she was a little girl. The kind of crying where you don’t care how you look or how much noise you’re making. The world doesn’t matter then, the whole world becomes your sadness and you don’t know when it’s going to stop. Of course the really stupid thing was that she wanted him. She’d missed him. She wondered if he was ok. She was so soft hearted, everyone knew it. So of course everyone took advantage of it. But what went wrong, she offered him everything like the fool she was. But he didn’t take it.

Haymitch kicked the wall as he stayed in his room. This stupid action resulted in a sharp pain in his foot. He wanted a simple release and instead here he was in pain and it was his own stupid fault. How could anyone be so stupid? It would have been so easy. She was so hot especially in that stupid jumpsuit. How could anyone pull off that stupid jumpsuit?  Their relationship had always been physical, an emotional release after the games.

There was too much. She was too much. She could be everything. He wanted her to be everything. No she already was everything. How could he give her all the evil in his life as well? She didn’t deserve that. He’d taken everything from her, her home, her career and she was risking her life. How could he possibly take any more? What kind of monster would want more?


	2. Well that was a mistake

Well that was a mistake that she was never going to be making again. Effie was determined that she was never ever going to interact with Haymitch Abernathy for the rest of their lives. The promise she made niggled at her however, what irritated her more was that he wasn’t around for her not to interact with. Where was he? What did he do all day? She had Katniss and her meetings with Plutarch. She was fully occupied. She was going to help her country. She was incredibly busy. But where in the hell was he?

He’d spent the vast majority of his adult life drinking, over 20 years. It had become a major part of his routine. Now his whole life was a hangover which was of course sheer joy. There were days when he just didn’t bother getting out of bed. Well most days. Someone bought him food and left him to it. He hated it, being an invalid. But what was out there that he wanted? Well there was an answer to that question but he was not going to think about it. Of course on the days he did manage to get out of bed, he inevitably looked for her. He couldn’t talk to her but it just gave him something to do. It made him smile when she fussed over the smallest detail like the filter on the latest propo. The way her face lit up when she was happy and she knew it was going to work. Her voice lecturing Katniss on her line delivery. Thank God for these stupidly large vents, it meant he could quite easily watch her without her having the faintest idea he was there. He hated being so damn creepy but the alternative risked the chance of her actually looking at him which he didn’t want.. Still it was really creepy.

“I’ve been thinking.” Plutarch Heavensbee mused as he sipped on a glass of water like it was an expensive brandy. Old habits die hard.

Effie immediately got out her notebook, she had no idea how she had got the job of being Plutarch Heavensbee’s secretary. In her previous life, it would have delighted her and she would have bragged to all her friends about landing such a prestigious appointment. Now of course if she was captured she’d be executed right alongside him. How’s that for prestige?

“I don’t think we’re using all our assets to their fullest potential.” He told her. Other bosses would have just told her what they wanted but Plutarch never made it easy. He enjoyed you figuring him out, he wanted you to guess. No, not guess. Solve. He seemed to enjoy watching people figure out what he wanted rather than actually exert power. It was a trait that Effie for the most part was grateful for. She’d had plenty of bosses who got a kick out of the power they had and just wanted you to follow them unquestionably. Effie got the feeling that if she followed Plutarch unquestionably she’d get fired even though he didn’t really have other options.

“Everything is going well, the propos are going magnificently, Katniss is as happy as Katniss will be without Peeta and generally the rebellion is making good progress.” Effie reported cheerfully, she started relaying information, the viewing figures for the propos, battlefield reports, various statistics, and morale reports for District 13 but after a few minutes his hand raised to stop her.

Plutarch frowned like he’d picked up a puzzle piece but couldn’t find where the piece went, “I know, but we do need to be more efficient, the Capitol has more resources than we can dream of, we have to make sure we’re using everything we have.”

“Well we need to be focusing more on the Capitol,” Effie stated “The propos are doing their job in inspiring the Districts but we also need access to  the Capitol. The problem with that is we can’t access the Capitols’ broadcasting system.”

“Details, what did you have in mind?” Plutarch smiled. It wasn’t enough to see a problem, you needed the solution. “We need to turn the Capitol against President Snow; maybe we could persuade Finnick…” Effie started to say, she’d been thinking about this for a while, how to make the propos more productive. She’d concluded that the people in the Districts were in an all or nothing war now, Katniss gave them hope but they couldn’t have stopped even if they wanted to. However the Capitol could be swayed. President Snow wasn’t as popular as he used to be, you don’t get to be that powerful for so long without creating resentment. That resentment could be just as important a weapon as Katniss herself.

“Not Finnick, he probably has enough dirt on President Snow to bury him but he won’t say a word until we can guarantee Annie’s rescue and who knows when that will be.” He admitted glumly and Effie knew from the reports, an assault on the Capitol just wasn’t feasible at the moment.

“Well maybe we can talk to the people here from the Capitol, persuade them to tell their stories about why they’re here, helping the rebellion, it would help the Capitol see us as people.” Effie suggested she almost flinched as she said it, expecting her idea to be knocked down. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“I love it.” Plutarch smiled gleefully “Work on it.” Effie wrote it down knowing that she wasn’t going to get any other direction from her boss on it.

“Is there anything else?” She asked.

“Haymitch Abernathy.” He said after a lengthy pause.

“What?” Effie spluttered.

Plutarch’s grin widened clearly enjoying his secretary’s reaction, “I mean he is a victor, not the most popular one but people know who he is, and maybe we should use that.”

Effie looked at him like he’d grown a second head but she was going to compose herself. “Are you sure that’s wise? He didn’t exactly endear himself to the Capitol after his games, certainly not like Finnick or hell even Beetee.”

“No but he symbolises something that the Capitol doesn’t like.” Plutarch mused, barely acknowledging Effie’s presence.

“What’s that?” She asked knowing that this was a case where Plutarch just wanted to show of how clever he was.

Plutarch quite theatrically, knowing he had a captive audience, answered her “The price of winning.”

“Fine.” She wrote his name on her notebook with more force than she needed to but it felt satisfying.

They sat in silence for a few moments when Plutarch almost absentmindedly said “I’ll see you tomorrow.

 

So Effie had a propo to work on. She quite enjoyed talking to people here from the Capitol. Their stories were fascinating but so tragic. In all honesty they made her ashamed, why had she never seen all this? The honest answer was she never wanted to see this. To actually believe it. She knew there were rumours but why would you believe them? They were only rumours. She had of course never intended to interview Haymitch and it was ridiculously easy to convince Cressida to do it. She didn’t even need to give her an excuse.

She was looking over all the footage, proud but knowing that completion was quite a far off prospect. It would take Cressida and her, days to edit this into something presentable. Added onto the fact that she would have to do most of it on her own because Cressida had already gone out to film some footage of Katniss. It was a challenge but for the moment she believed it would be an enjoyable one.

She picked up the disc that Cressida had left. Haymitch Abernathy written across it with a big black pen. She had no clue what was on it. To be totally honest, she was amazed that Cressida had managed to get anything out of him. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about what the interview. The disc had been there when she entered the editing room. There was a part of her that wanted to wait until Cressida got back. She could work on that footage when Cressida came back. Besides there was hours of footage from her other interviews, it probably wouldn’t be needed. Maybe it wouldn’t satisfy Plutarch but she knew that if she gave him a great product he wouldn’t complain. She touched his name but before fondness or sadness could take root, she shook her head; she was not going to stand for this. How dare she let him influence her life? She had a job to do and she was going to do it.

She inserted it and pressed play before she changed her mind, crossing her arms trying to resist the urge to retreat and to press the pause button.

A beautifully composed shot of Haymitch’s head and shoulders filled the screen. She’d managed to find a suit for him to wear. It looked like one of the ones she bought him over the years. He did cut a handsome figure, in a roguish almost… “No not going there.” Effie told herself angrily. She reached for the mouse but she stopped herself, just let it play.

“So first thanks for doing this.” Cress opened her voice, cool and collected.

Haymitch grunted and looked down at the floor. She could almost feel Cressida sighing even though she was far too professional to do that out loud. “Can you make sure you look at the camera?"

“I know sister, this isn’t my first rodeo.” He said irritated but he was saying it directly to the camera.

“Ok I’m going to ask you questions, just answer them as best you can and we can skip any you don’t want to answer.” She informed him.

Haymitch didn’t answer but he stayed looking at the camera. “Good, so why are you here?”

“The company.” he said grinning, like the joke he just told was funny.

“Can you tell me about the Hunger Games?” She asked not even acknowledging his response. ‘Good for her’ Effie thought. That was always the problem with her; she let him get under her skin, amongst other things.

“What do you want to know?” he replied. Effie sighed they weren’t going to be able to use any of this; he looked like a petulant child.

“Tell me about your Hunger Games?” Cressida responded undeterred by his manner.

“My name got picked out of a goldfish bowl and 47 children died.” He replied, he glared at Cressida accusingly and not at the camera. Effie could see Cressida try and adjust the camera and to maintain a decent shot.

“How did that make you feel?” She went on after a few moments as she managed to get the camera into a position she was happy with.

“Like I was walking on sunshine.” He smiled and again he looked like a petulant child. This was insane, none of this footage was going to be usable she might as well pause the DVD and work on different, better footage. She almost went for the button but she was not going to disrespect Cressida, she’d asked her to do this so she was just going to have to watch this.

“What happened after?” Cressida asked clearly not giving up.

“I returned and I became a shit mentor.” He admitted but it didn’t come across as petulant though. You could feel the tragedy in his voice, hear the guilt, this was what they needed. It was a shame that he was looking at the floor though. It worked though, he looked gaunt almost ghostlike. It was as if he was trying to shrink inside himself, his hands scrunching his sleeves like he could just rub away everything.

“Thank you for your time Mr Abernathy.” Cressida announced. “What are you doing?” Effie thought he was opening up. He just needed a chance.

“That’s it?” Haymitch asked surprise clearly evident in his voice. He shrank back into the chair. He was agitated though, his hands were still moving and now it was clear to Effie that they were shaking.

“If that’s all you have to say.” She said it casually but as Effie heard her voice, she knew it was a challenge. Would he be too proud enough to accept it?

“No wait, the Hunger Games I’m here because of the Hunger Games.” He pleaded, genuine desperation entering his voice unfortunately he was looking at her and not the camera. Even so his profile worked. He looked desperate, his eyes clearly bloodshot, his hands still shaking. She wanted to hug him; Effie shook her head at the thought. You tried that once.

“Go on.” Cressida continued, knowing she’d won.

“I don’t think I’d be here without the Hunger Games.” He admitted looking at the camera. His whole body shook whenever he said the words Hunger Games. It was like a curse saying it bought them back. She could see his eyes flash with terror and she knew for a second he was back in the arena. It was strange, all those years she’d spent with him and she’d never noticed. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was like the Capitol. There are some things you don’t want to see.

“Would any of us?” Cressida asked drily.

“I guess not, it’s just I don’t think I’d be here without them.” He paused, he looked like he was about to jump, he’d turned pale white, especially his knuckles as he gripped the chair. He tried to look at the camera but he immediately turned away unable to face its judgement. All of a sudden Effie felt guilty, was she judging him? Even though she was angry at him for rejecting her. Did she have any right to judge him? How could she? All of a sudden she really didn’t like this, she could feel the sweat on her palms, and she tried to reach for the remote. But he stopped her “I’d have my head in the sand. But when you’re so close and every year you think to yourself, please just let me have one year, let me save one child. I’d have done anything but I didn’t think it would happen, so I found Plutarch or maybe he found me and then this happened.” He looked around a small genuine smile on his face, it faded in an instant to be replaced by his usual frown but she’d seen it.

“You must have been happy when you saved Katniss and Peeta.” Cressida’s voice spoke softly.

Haymitch’s face contorted into painful reflection, all those years of death, child after child, never stopping. “You know it’s strange. It hadn’t occurred to me in over 25 years to think that if anyone won they’d have to go through what I had to do, maybe I did those other kids a favour.”

“How?” Cressida says confused.

“The Capitol expects you to put on a show, it’s not enough to kill 23 kids,  they have to make an event out of it. At first victory seems sweet but the show never ends, you have to keep going or fail, they like seeing you fail, they like to know that they’ve won.”

There was a silence for a while, all Effie could see was Haymitch, he looked so angry, his eyes bloodshot. He wasn’t being judged anymore, he was judging them, her. She saw Plutarch’s point now; the Capitol didn’t want to see this. “What was being a victor like?”

“It made me wish I’d died.” Effie’s heart stopped as he spoke, his eyes were haunted but they were glaring at the camera now, his gaze steady now, judgemental. This was what they needed; they needed to be judged to face up to what they did. Effie hated it, she looked at her hands and they were deathly pale,  cold to the touch. Her whole body shook as she shivered inside her chair. Why didn’t she just stop it?

“Why?” Cressida asked her voice still level and emotionless, meanwhile Effie’s eyes had begun to leak onto her keyboard, at least she didn’t have any make up anymore.

“The guilt, you’d do anything to stop it, stop that little voice that won’t ever let you rest. The one that calls you a murderer everyday of your life until all you want to do is shoot the fucker out of your brain.” He sounded deranged and the shaking was worse now. Effie could see him suppress something akin to a scream. He kept his gaze on the camera on her.

“How did you cope?” Cressida asked.

“I drank, I drank until it stopped and when it came back I drank some more.” He admitted but it wasn’t a joke like some of his previous responses, it was the barbed truth, ugly in its simplicity. “Every Victor has something, those poor kids from 6? with their drugs, sex, violence, sometimes mixing all three, it was how you survived”

“So you just drank?” Cressida asked but it sounded like an accusation.

Effie felt ill as she thought about it, all those years she’d been with him. Was that all she was? Was she guilty? Could she have done something? Anything? “I drank sweetheart.” He stopped and then he spoke up “You do what you have to do; I just tried not to hurt anyone.”

“What about your family, friends couldn’t they help you?” she asked innocently, Haymitch looked at Cressida again but Effie knew what he was thinking. He was accusing her of knowing. He looked back at the camera, his face contorted as the words failed to come out.  Effie could see his eyes twitch and the pain crease his face.

“If you don’t want to say you don’t have to.” Cressida informed him.

“No, I said I wouldn’t pretend, I should do that at least,“ he paused and grimaced as he tried to voice the feelings he’d buried long ago. “I cheated.”

“I don’t understand.” Cressida responded.

Haymitch looked at the floor again. He tapped at the floor with his feet; his eyes lost their sharpness as he drifted back there. Effie wanted to stop him, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t even stop the tape. “I figured it out, the arena, things bounce back off the shield. I practiced and when it was just the two of us, I used her own weapon against her, she never saw it coming.” He was still now, which for some reason was worse Effie thought. It was because she knew he was there, trapped by his own memories.

Cressida spoke after a short break, as softly as she could “That sounds clever.”

“No President Snow didn’t see it that way, so he decided…, I never got to say goodbye to my family, my girl, and they said it was an accident, a fire.” His voice was soft and his anger seemed to have melted away, he rubbed his eyes, the tears welling up. “President Snow sent roses.”

“I’m sorry.” Cressida’s voice rang out after a long silence. Haymitch remained silent as he brushed the tears off with his sleeves. The camera zoomed in making sure to capture every facet of the sadness. It seemed invasive thought Effie, she wondered whether she wanted to use it but then the film stopped. She kept pressing the play button hoping that more would magically appear, he was finally opening up and then it just stopped. As she looked around she noticed a note from Cressida. “Sorry it’s not that long Effie.” It seemed tragic that in a short interview Cressida got more out of him than she had in 10 years. Envy seemed to simmer inside her as she ejected the DVD. She needed to work on editing but it was the last thing on her mind.

Why did he share so much with her? Effie had known him for years and he’d never revealed so much. Well in fairness it wasn’t that much and she supposed that if she’d wanted to she could have found out herself, hell there was probably a report about it somewhere in the Capitol’s archive. Why would they hide it? It was an example. It was his emotion though, the emotion that was so clear on the camera. She’d never seen him this emotional and then realisation struck her.

She grabbed a piece of paper and just started writing. Her pen flying across the paper as she looked back over it. She thought it was the most incomprehensible dribble she’d ever read. She threw it away angrily and started again. She had to get this right. She had to make it right if that was even possible. She tried to calm down but her heart was beating so fast, her eyes were so sore and she still felt cold. She returned to her room, trying to collect herself. It was something she’d always been good at before.

She didn’t think she could sleep but as she lay down on her bed she fell asleep within moments. As she woke up from her oblivion, she instinctively went to her table, happy that she had insisted on having her own room. She grabbed a piece of paper and her mind still stuffed with sleep began to write. It was of course terrible but it was getting les terrible and her mind was focused now. For a second she thought about just telling him but as she thought of his angry face form his interview, she couldn’t quite face that. This was easier just get it all down and just try to have it make sense. She smiled, how could whatever they have ever make sense. A few hours later she had something she was reasonably happy with. She shoved it under his door like a complete coward and tried valiantly to put it out of her mind and focus on editing.

He looked at it for about an hour, if he could of he would have took a stiff drink before reading it but of course he couldn’t. He thought about going into the medical wing and stealing some drugs before shaking it away angrily. Had he always been that pathetic? He either had to read it or destroy it. A large part of him wanted to pick the latter option but he just couldn’t do it. He had to read it.

_Dear Haymitch_

_I wish I could just tell you what I feel but I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t think I even know for sure. Maybe you know, you were always smarter than me but I don’t think it matters what I feel. I think what matters now is what I do. I want to help you and I want you to be happy. I wish I could say this in person but I’m not sure you’d let me finish. It’s easy to ignore what you don’t want to see. We both know that but I think it’s more than not pretending. We both need to step up and try and live in this new world. I don’t want to do that alone, I want you to help me so I can help you. If that makes sense and doesn’t sound completely selfish. Bottom line is if you want to try this then come find me._

_Effie._

Haymitch folded the letter “Effie, I can’t.” he said to no one. Why did she want to help him? The paranoid part of his brain thought it was a trap. The Capitol never helped you, they used you and then they spat you out. But this was Effie. His Effie. He crunched t up and threw it away, maybe it was time to go to the medical wing.

 

“You’re lucky we found you, you easily could have killed yourself.” The nurse said in his high and mighty way. Haymitch just glowered at him and the nurse decided he had better things to do then interact with him. Besides he was restrained to the bed, it wasn’t like he was going anywhere. Haymitch screamed just because he knew the nurse could still hear him even though he had put his headphones on.

He stopped though when he saw her. She’d been crying and he already felt guilty. Why did she have to care about him? He wasn’t worth it. Why couldn’t she just go away?

“Did you even read it?” she asked, her voice was shaking.

He wanted to scream genuinely now, he wanted to escape, anything to stop her looking at him. “Fuck off.” he shouted, his eyes full with rage. He didn’t know what he would have done if the straps hadn’t have been there, holding him back.

“No, don’t do this to me” she screamed back “Don’t make me leave because…I need you.”

“Please Effie” Haymitch implored trying to grab her “I can’t, I need you… I want… don’t make me guilty, I can’t handle anymore.”

“Are you handling it now?” She grabbed his face and forced him to look into her tearstained bloodshot eyes. “Be honest with me, for once”

Haymitch tried to turn his gaze but her grip was too firm, he wanted to run but he knew this wasn’t the Hunger Games. There was nowhere to run, he cried tears that he’d held back for decades that were now being ousted with a vengeance. “I can’t handle this.” He pleaded “It’s too much” he screamed and hollered like an angry child; it was like she wasn’t even there. She held him, not really sure if she could ever let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N So in the future they still use DVD’s because I say so. I don’t know Distirct 13 are forced to use more primitive technology. Whatever works for you. Anyway hoped you enjoy and I promise lots of Hayffie goodness in the next chapter where they will interact. Yeah I liked the idea of them opening up indirectly because it makes sense, I think if they tried to talk to each other, Haymitch would just be evasive and Effie would just get frustrated.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N So that was fun, I hope Haymitch’s Nam styled Hunger Games flashback makes sense. Please review. Also whilst this story isn’t over. If you want more Hayffie love whilst waiting for the next chapter you can read my other Hayffie fics. I should have seen where they first get it on and it’s cold outside where they realise that they can’t let each other go.


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